Tears
by Rackuhn
Summary: Pain, alone, cold, darkness—these are just some of the things one can experience in times of misfortune, but what is there to bring one back from those depths?


Tears

Not quite your usual DOH story and believe me, no money was made from this either. Just for fun!

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Pain. Immense and horrible pain. It raced through his whole body, not an inch of him free from it. It was piercing, stabbing, not yielding in any way. He tried to cry out but it only came out as a soft moan. He tried to move away from it, only to make it worse. He wanted so badly to be free from it but it was unrelenting, never ending.

Alone. He was alone and it horrified him. He never liked being alone. Tears, along with the blood from the cuts, streamed down his face as he realized that he might never see his loved ones again. He wondered if anyone would be worried about him, if they would try to find him. Would they even be able to find him? Alone. He hated being alone.

Cold. He was cold. He couldn't get warm. He shivered only causing the pain to flare its angry head. He shook and he trembled, his body growing numb. Every finger, every toe was frozen, unable to move. His teeth chattered and his bones ached. He tried to stop but couldn't. He shuddered again as his body tried to warm itself, only to feel the cold creeping further and further up his arms and legs.

Darkness. He felt it. He felt the darkness coming and he tried to fight it. The cold was sapping his strength, and he knew that he needed to stay awake but it kept edging closer and closer. He fought it for all that he was worth but it still came, taking him under, releasing him from the pain.

Warmth. He was warm and there was no pain. He felt it wrap around him, comforting him, keeping him safe. He wasn't alone anymore. He felt a peace and it gave him hope. He wanted to stay, to feel this warmth, to let it embrace him forever, but it wasn't to be. He must go. He knew that. He felt that. But he so wanted to stay where it was warm.

Voices. He could hear the voices around him. They were talking to him, talking about him, talking to each other. "Severely injured." "Internal injuries." "Blood loss." "Head trauma." "Coma." He tried to answer but nothing seemed to work. He wanted so badly to tell them that he was here, that he could hear them, but his body refused to respond. All he could do was listen to the voices.

Scared. He never felt so scared before in his life. He wasn't scared for himself, he was scared for the others, the others whom he knew were worried about him. He knew the others were there waiting for him to wake up, waiting for him to say something, to do something, but "nothing" was all that he was capable of doing. So he just laid there and worried about his family.

"Ya know, if ya would just wake up, we could get ya better and get ya out of here," he heard his uncle's voice plead. He could feel the hand that was holding his, could feel its warmth, its strength, its tenderness. "I know how much ya hate hospitals but I can't take ya home if ya won't wake up." He heard the anguish in the older man's voice, the heartache and pain that was reflected in his tone. He wanted so badly to do as his uncle asked, but still he couldn't, not yet at least. Soon, he thought, soon he would try again.

"We all love you and want so much for ya ta wake up now," she cried out. "We need ya, cousin, we all need ya." He groaned, not out loud, no he couldn't vocalize his feelings yet, but he groaned just the same. He hated hearing the pain that he was causing her, how he was making her cry. He could hear the tears in her voice as she tried to remain strong for him. He could feel her sending him her own strength so that he would open his eyes once again, but it wasn't enough, not yet. It just wasn't enough.

"I can't believe this happened, that you're this bad off, Buddyroe. But I knows ya. You're strong and you're a fighter. So, please keep fightin'." Cooter. His friend. No, not just a friend but another brother, not by blood, but by choice. He could feel the mechanic standing there, willing him to get stronger, willing him to survive. He wanted so much to reach out and thank him for what he was doing, but it wasn't time, no not yet, but it was getting closer.

"I never thought that I'd see ya like this." Rosco?? Yes, it was Rosco, the one person that he'd never thought would come to see him. "It just wouldn't be the same if ya was ta leave us and it would be a horrendous tragedy ta your family too." He could hear the soft sniffles coming from the sheriff. "I know Jesse and your cousins wouldn't take it well, not well at all." The words he heard were soft and heartfelt, spoken not in the usual gruffness that he always heard coming from the man. "And I know that I'd miss ya too." He felt his own heart ache at the words he was hearing, knowing that even Rosco was worried about him, that the sheriff also needed him to come back. Almost there.

"Ya gotta come back ta me cousin. I can't lose ya this way. I won't let ya go, I can't let ya go." Though his eyes were closed, he knew that there were tears on his cousin's face. His cousin's hand was tightly gripping his. It was cold, so very cold, as if all hope was lost. He could hear how scared he was; his voice was trembling in fear, pleading with him to come back. He could feel his pain, immense and horrible. He knew him, knew him better than himself sometimes. He needed him; they needed each other. "Please wake up!"

Fight! He had to fight. He had to go back…now! It was time. He knew it. It was time for him to return. He knew it would hurt and in a way, he was scared. He had to push those fears aside; he just had to, because now it was time to go home.

Light. He could see a light. It was just a pinprick, but it was light and it was growing stronger. The darkness faded as the light grew. He found strength in that light, he found warmth, and comfort, but he also felt the pain. It hurt, it hurt badly. He wanted to stop but the voices kept calling to him. He found himself moving towards that light, closer, faster. Soon the light exploded all around him and he saw faces smiling down at him. His family. They found him, he wasn't alone, they were with him. He felt their warmth, their comfort, and their strength reaching out to him, willing him to get better.

Tears. Tears were in their eyes, not tears of sadness but tears of joy, rejoicing in his return. Even though the pain was there, there was a peace around him and it gave him hope. He wanted to stay, to feel this warmth, to let it embrace him forever, and this time it was meant to be. He knew that. He felt that. He wanted to stay. He smiled back at them.

The End.

A/N: Since I'm having major writers block on all the stories I've got started, it felt good to get something out, even if it was a short one. I know, you're probably thinking: _"What is going on with her to write something like this?"_ Good question. Answer: _"I have no idea!!!"_ This one popped into my head and WA-LA a story is born. Now maybe the creative juices will start flowing once again for my other stories (we can only hope!) Oh, and which Duke boy it is and what kind of accident that I'm writing about in this story…well, I guess that's up to you :).


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